


Even Our Secrets Have Secrets

by Banshi13



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Family Drama, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Season/Series 08, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 05:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14709875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banshi13/pseuds/Banshi13
Summary: “I don’t like what I’m thinking about now.”“Yea?” Danny turned his head just enough to move his mouth off of Steve’s shoulder so that he could be understood.  “What are you thinking about now?”  When he heard no answer and felt the body of his partner tense in his grip, Danny pulled back a little to meet Steve’s gaze.  Once he had it, he held onto it, cerulean blue meeting slate gray – Steve’s eyes always grayed when he was troubled, Danny noticed.  His fingers were still resting at McGarrett’s sides and they drew lazy patterns against the cloth of his shirt as he waited patiently.





	Even Our Secrets Have Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Alright. I hope that I’m not the only one that has an inkling that Joe White, while probably a great person over all, knows much, much more about the McGarrett family relationships/history than he has ever let on to Steve before. I obviously don’t want to give away too much in the A/N, but I would be interested to see just how many readers of this piece would agree that ‘X’ probably happened. I love me some comments, so leave me a note; I do my best to respond to all reviews!
> 
> Disclaimer: Hawaii Five-O, as well as the characters found within the series, are owned by CBS Productions, K/O Paper Products, and 101st Street Productions. No profit is being made off this work.

**Hawaii Five-0**

Steve jimmied the key into the lock of the door and pushed it open, leading his guest inside. “Here you go,” he announced, walking into the center of the restaurant and turning to look at Joe behind him. “This is it – Steve’s.” He watched as his surrogate father figure took in the environment. To the untrained eye, it would seem as if Steve and Danny had hardly made any progress since they took over the space eight months ago, but Steve knew better. The bar had been fully sanded and stained, molding and caulking had been laid, the space for the booths was measured and cordoned off (he and Danny were still arguing over the color, regardless of the fact that Danny had already ordered the upholstery), and the brick laying for the oven was nearly half way done. Steve radiated pride as he watched Joe take in his surroundings.

“’Steve’s’, huh?”

“Well… you know, whatever we decide to call it, yea,” Steve shrugged, watching his mentor carefully. “So, what do you think? S’great, right?” 

Joe chuckled, his hands on his hips as he walked further into the space, peaking behind the bar and inspecting the boarding on the walls before fixing Steve with an amused gaze. “What brought this on, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Uh, well, about a year ago, Danny and I were going after some terrorists and while we were tracking them, he mentioned that he was thinking about retiring and that maybe he’d open up a restaurant when he did,” Steve sniffed, scratching his nose. “I’d found a list of his and bugged him about it until he told me that it was a list of stuff he wanted to do when he pensioned out.”

“One of which was own a restaurant?” Joe laughed, turning to give his full attention to Steve. “Only Danny Williams would want to open an Italian restaurant in the middle of Chinatown on O’ahu. How’d he rope you into it?”

“I – there was a bomb that we were transporting during that trip. It was about to go off and I asked Danny to name the restaurant Steve’s.” The SEAL had the good graces to look sheepish as he shyly scratched at the back of his neck, consciously choosing to omit exactly _why_ he’d made the request. “A few months later, he dragged my ass here and showed me the place. He was like a damn puppy bouncing back and forth and he said he wanted me to be his partner in running the place, so… here we are.”

Joe nodded. _Sounds about right_ , said his expression. “You guys don’t look like you’re close to opening.”

“Yea, we had a few hang ups – Danny wants things a certain way, wants the booths a certain color, we had our tools stolen so I had to go and buy new ones…” Steve’s eyes clouded over slightly as he went through the list of things that had stymied the restaurant, the biggest one being that Danny had been shot and had died on an OR table for a few seconds before the doctors had been able to get him back. Danny had affectionately referred to it as ‘being jumped back to life.’

Steve hadn’t found it quite so funny.

He must have zoned out because before he knew it, Joe was standing in front of him, arms crossed with a concerned look on his face, one that spoke of a father worrying for his son, and dammit if Steve’s heart didn’t ache a little at that.

“You okay, son?”

“Yea, yea Joe, I’m fine. It’s just been a lot, you know? A lot’s happened since you’ve been gone.” Steve raked his fingers through his buzzed hair and forced himself to cheer up. “But we’re back on track now; we got new tools, the booths are the color the booths are gonna be, the bar’s sanded down and stained finally, we’re gonna start looking at new flooring and wall colors – what?” He looked at Joe, who had a look of amusements mixed with something else that Steve couldn’t identify. “You think this is a dumb idea.”

“No. No, Steve, I do not think this is a dumb idea,” Joe shook his head.

“Alright then, so what?”

“Have you heard from Catherine?”

If that wasn’t a hell of a subject change. Steve actually felt his stomach clench at the mention of his almost fiancé turned CIA agent. “Uh yea… about two months ago. One of her cases brought her to Hawaii and she dropped in looking for some help.” He watched Joe wander around the restaurant, taking it in as he went. Steve couldn’t help but feel as if he were being gently interrogated. “Why?”

“Just wondered. I’d always hoped you and she’d make it work, that you’d end up together, happy.” Joe stopped by one of the tables and looked down to see a small pile of photographs. Steve didn’t have the time to ask a follow up to that statement before Joe had lifted the top photo and held it up. “What’s this?”

“What’s that? That is a picture, Joe, you may have heard of it before,” Steve snickered, walking up and plucking the photo from his ex-commander’s hold and smiling as he saw which one it was: Himself, Danny, Grace, and Charlie on the beach behind his house, surf boards and sandcastles decorating both the fore and backgrounds. “Danny had the idea to have pictures of our ohana decorating the restaurant, so we’ve been going through our photo albums and getting pictures taken when everybody’s together.” As he watched Joe flip through the pictures, Steve did his best to tamp down on the flip/flop of his heart. It was like Joe was looking for something, investigating, looking for some kind of secret that only he knew but that Steve should also know. He pinned the older man with a look. “What are you looking for, Joe?”

For a few long moments, there was no answer, only the sound of pictures being flipped through and placed carefully back where they’d been found. “Son, I think that’s a question you ought to be asking yourself.” At Steve’s confused look, Joe swiveled around to lean against the table, fixing Steve with one of his own ‘we’re having this conversation’ looks. “Is there something going on with you and Danny?” 

Steve knew he was doing a fantastic impression of a fish at the moment, his lips attempting to form words around a stunned facial structure that simply wouldn’t budge for him to do so. And thankfully, Joe stood silently in front of him, like an infinitely assured and seasoned father who had just caught one of his kids with their hands in the cookie jar while simultaneously attempting to convince him that, no, it wasn’t their hand that was in the cookie jar, but that of one of their absent siblings. When it was clear that Joe was going to wait him out, Steve managed to come up with a response, stuttered as it was.

“I-I mean is there – is something – we’re friends, Joe, you know that, we’re really good friends. Close friends, best friends…” Steve ran a hand along the back of his neck, his fingers edgy with tension. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with his former commanding officer. Hell, it took him over two years to even broach this subject with Danny. “Why?”

“Because I’ve watched you for over 15 years, Steve. I’ve seen how you interact with your friends, your fellow soldiers, with your family, with Catherine,” Joe gave him a pointed look at the mention of his ex-flame again, his expression the complete opposite of his voice, which was soft, thoughtful, almost kind. “And you were close with most of them. Your family situation aside, what with your father and your mother, your sister – those were… extenuating circumstances – but I remember how you were with Freddie. I saw you sometimes with Catherine; arguably two of the most important people in your life, but with Danny…” He shook his head, crossing his feet at the ankle where he stood, watching Steve as the younger man began to build up his walls, raise his defenses. “It’s different with him, isn’t it?”

The final lock on Steve’s inner box labeled _‘Do Not Discuss’_ slid into place. Gone was the shock and uncertainty that was initially present when Joe began his interrogation, replaced by quiet indignation, and a fierce determination to protect himself, to protect Danny – from Joe? 

Yes, from Joe. Because as much as Steve wanted to trust Joe, wanted to believe in his heart of hearts that his mentor/father figure was only asking after him in this manner because he was genuinely interested in his life, that he could always trust his ‘Uncle Joe’ as Steve’s father had told him so many times, Steve had learned otherwise the hard way over the years.

“Is it a problem if it is?” Steve finally growled out, pinning Joe with a look of his own. It said quite plainly: _Tread carefully_. Steve had a few questions of his own to ask, and if his ex-commander wanted to keep this up, Steve was going to start fighting back. As if sensing this, Joe backed off just a little. “No. No, it’s not a problem, Steve.” He tried for gentle tones and a reassuring timber, but it clearly fell on deaf ears.

“Then why are you asking as if it would be?”

“Honestly, Steve? Because I’m concerned.” Joe took a few steps forward, holding his hands out in front of him placatingly, every inch of his stance asking for just a little understanding from his protégé. “You’re in your 40’s now; you’re not married, you don’t have any children of your own yet, you’re still casually dating. I know you, son. Eventually, that’s going to take its toll. I don’t want you to have any regrets. It’s one of my biggest ones – not being able to hold a marriage together, to have my own kids. I don’t want you to be my age 15 years from now and looking back wondering what could have been.” Joe watched the man in front of him scuff the toes of his boots against the flooring, clearing dust and creating odd shapes against the tiles at the same time. 

Finally, Steve looked up at him, and Joe just knew that this conversation was going to take one hell of a turn.

“When’s the last time you talked to my mom, Joe?”

“Steve-“

The cop held up a finger in warning. “When?”

Joe let himself sigh quietly. “I caught up with her before I came back stateside.”

“On the phone or in person?”

“You know I shouldn’t even be telling you I spoke with her, right?”

“Alright, so in person – probably while you were still in Germany, right? Huh? What, did she send you home with these questions to ask me, for you to report back to her?” Steve’s demeanor all but took on that of a panther, crouched and ready to strike at its prey. “You know I’ve been thinking about that conversation we had while you were recovering there, when I told you that I’d asked out Catherine and that I’d gone home to see my father – which, thanks again for that, that’s something I won’t ever forget.”

Joe nodded. “You’re welcome.”

“But when I asked you who you made that promise to, the one to keep me alive, and you said it was to my mother – God, Joe…” Steve knew the pain he felt was shining through his expression like the sunlight on a clear, cloudless day, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that it brought him just the smallest amount of satisfaction to see Joe grimace as he recognized it for what it was. “When you told me that? That was 16 years ago. And you said you made that promise to Doris, which means you knew – you _knew_ – at least _16 years ago_ that she was alive.” He glared at Joe, as though daring him to say that Steve was wrong, that he didn’t have it right. Finally, the elder man spoke, one single word, breathed out in aching recognition of the truth.

“Yes.”

Steve knew the truth before Joe answered, but to have it affirmed, to hear it with his own ears literally took the wind out of him. A hand raked back through his hair and came to rest on his neck, his entire body as tense as it ever had been. He had another question, one that he’d been debating asking off and on for the last few years, but after this most recent revelation, and its confirmation, Steve summoned the will to force the words past his lips.

“Joe, did you make that promise to her before or after you slept with her?”

God forgive him, but Steve had to ask it like that. He had to, because Joe was so damn good, so good at keeping things hidden, at deflecting, at misdirection, at having a volley tossed at him and serving it back effortlessly. So, Steve had to ask it as though it were already fact, had to ask it with such fierce assurance to hopefully catch Joe off guard enough to see the truth flashing across his face before he had the chance to cover it up. Perhaps his confirmation was the pain he saw in Joe’s eyes, rather than the answer the man gave.

“Before.” 

To his credit, Joe stood straight and tall, shoulders leveled, looking directly at Steve. He also had the aura of unrepentance about him as well, and Steve couldn’t understand that. He watched Joe’s lips begin to move and forced himself to tune into the explanation.

“For a while, I was her handler. I was transferred to a base near where she was being housed and used that as my cover for those in the Navy stateside that would have needed an explanation about where I was. I was with her for 24 months and worked on a rotating schedule for a few years after that.” He gazed silently at Steve, waiting for the younger man’s reaction the way one might watch a category 5 hurricane rolling in across the open water.

“She was still married.” Steve shook his head, not able to believe what he was hearing but what he knew was the truth – what he’d suspected for a while now. “She was still alive and still married and her husband, my father, one of your _closest friends_ was mourning her death… and the both of you just, what? You tripped over each other one night?” He thought he’d felt betrayal before, but he hadn’t felt it like this since Danny had told him Rachel had kept Charlie from his rightful father. Steve was in a righteous fury not just for himself, but on behalf of his now deceased sire as well. He suddenly wasn’t so worried about anyone forgiving him for how he chose to broach this subject.

Joe at least had the good grace to look at him with some sympathy. “I know it’s not what you wanted to hear-“

“What do I tell Mary, Joe?” Steve looked at him accusingly. “She didn’t want to see mom at first when I told her she was alive. It took her while to come around, and then Doris left again and Mary hasn’t seen her since. What am I supposed to tell her about this?”

“Tell who about what?”

Danny.

Steve blinked, looking past Joe at his partner who’d just come through the door, closing it tightly behind him and hanging back, a wary expression on his face. Steve didn’t blame him; to Danny, it probably looked like two alpha males ready to go at each other in a first blood match, and he didn’t put it out of the realm of possibilities that Danny had heard Steve and Joe arguing from outside. The SEAL watched as Danny walked around the two, instinctively giving them a wide berth but pinning a knowing look on Joe before fixing his gaze on Steve, his expression softening. “What’s goin’ on?”

Steve shook his head and turned away, his feet carrying him across the room away from both men, head hanging and hands on his hips. “That’s my queue,” Joe muttered. “Danny.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no – get back here, where are you goin’, huh?” Now Danny put himself in front of the other man. “What’s the matter with him? What’d you say to him, huh?” Joe only shifted to the side and breezed past. “I’m sure he’ll tell you, Danny. Good seeing you again.” With that he was gone, and Danny found that his concern was being rapidly replaced with irritation. That is until he heard a foreign sound behind him that he usually only heard from his two children. Danny looked over his shoulder to see Steve sitting on an overturned work bucket, hunched over, heels of his hands pressed into his eyes obscuring most of his face, but the detective’s ears didn’t lie, and another two seconds confirmed his initial suspicion.

Steve was crying.

Not for the first time, Danny found himself wishing he’d either punched, drop kicked, or otherwise caused some form of harm to the man who’d just left as he dragged his own bucket over and set it in front of Steve before he himself sat down and placed gentle fingers on both of his partner’s knees. “Steve, talk to me,” he murmured softly, “what happened?” Danny hated seeing Steve like this – come to think of it, Danny wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen Steve cry. Oh sure, he’d seen him tear up a few times, watch as his partner’s eyes became glassy with emotion, but a full-on sob session complete with hiccupping? Danny had never seen it, and now as he bore witness, he realized he never wanted to see it again. This was all wrong on Steve, and the anger surged just a little more in Danny’s heart at Joe, who had left his partner in this state.

But Danny couldn’t do anything about that now. All he could do was continue to speak quiet, soft assurances into Steve’s ear and draw soothing patterns on his knees until the man quieted enough to where the only thing that could be heard from Steve were deep, mournful breaths.

“Joe’s known my mother was alive for a lot longer than I thought,” he muttered dully. Danny nodded.

“How long?”

“16 years,” came the man’s reply, “at least that long, but probably longer than that.” Steve blew out a breath and lifted his red, swollen eyes to meet Danny’s sorrowful ones. “Doris and Joe… they uh…” A hard swallow seemed to be the only thing he could follow that up with but blessedly, Danny got the message. 

“Lemme guess; they were sleeping together? Or are sleeping together? Or at one point slept together?”

Steve nodded, bowing his head again as his hands hid his face away.

“Oh babe, I’m sorry.” Danny scooted a bit closer and slid an arm around Steve’s side while his other hand pulled Steve’s own away from his face one by one. But Steve still wanted to hide and if Danny wouldn’t let him hide behind his hands, then he’d just hide in the cop’s shoulder, which was exactly what he did. Steve let Danny take some of his weight once he felt his partner’s arms around him. Neither man knew how long they sat there like that but it was long enough that Danny’s lower back began to raise a sore protest.

“I don’t like what I’m thinking about now.”

“Yea?” Danny turned his head just enough to move his mouth off of Steve’s shoulder so that he could be understood. “What are you thinking about now?” When he heard no answer and felt the body of his partner tense in his grip, Danny pulled back a little to meet Steve’s gaze. Once he had it, he held onto it, cerulean blue meeting slate gray – Steve’s eyes always grayed when he was troubled, Danny noticed. His fingers were still resting at McGarrett’s sides and they drew lazy patterns against the cloth of his shirt as he waited patiently.

“Is it crazy for me to think that maybe with what I know now about Joe and Doris that maybe the man who I thought was my father from the very beginning wasn’t actually my father?”

Oh. Danny winced, pondering how to answer that one. In actuality, no, it wasn’t crazy, not with the wacked out, nutty, classified, James Bond, GI Joe history that was the McGarrett clan; their secrets had secrets for cryin' out loud. A hidden love child seemed right up the family’s alley if Danny was honest, but he wasn’t going to be so tactless with Steve, not right now. Instead, he rested his forehead against his friend’s.

“No, I don’t think it’s crazy, Steven. You and Mary… you both just got born into a ton of crazy. You lived your whole life believing things were one way and then five, six years ago, everything you knew got blown out of the water, and as much as I know how you love a good explosion, finding out your mom was alive and that Wo Fat was after her because she killed his mother and not his father like she was supposed to, and then finding out that she actually raised the son of a bitch for a few years?” Danny shook his head. “Babe, that’d be enough for God to question whether or not he really made Adam and Eve, y’know?”

A snuffle of laughter was his answer and Danny smiled, leaving his head right where it was as he felt the tension begin to release from Steve’s body. “I mean, I’ve always questioned the big guy’s existence, don’t get me wrong, but if there’s ever a higher power out there that becomes as cynical as me, then we got a real problem.” Another chuckle from Steve, and Danny took that not only as a reward but as permission to lean back and give Steve some breathing room, moving his hands to rest low on Steve’s legs near the knee. The silence that fell between them wasn’t completely comfortable, but it was a damn sight better than the soupy solarium of misery that had been permeating the room up until then.

“He asked about you. About us.”

Danny raised his eyebrows. “Who? Joe did?”

“Yea. Before we got on the… the other subject,” Steve sniffed, touching a finger to his nose as he looked around the restaurant. “Wanted to know if there was anything going on with us, said that he was worried about me.”

“Uh-huh.” And didn’t that just smack of irony, especially considering that the reason Steve had been a puddle of splotchy tears moments ago had been because of Joe’s lack of worry regarding all the secrets he’d kept from Steve over at least two decades. 

“What’s he worried about?”

“He’s… you know, he’s worried I’m not married yet, that I’d broken it off with Catherine,” Steve shifted a bit in his seat, avoiding Danny’s eyes for the moment. “I guess he doesn’t want us to start something and then me not have kids of my own and have regrets.” He shrugged. Danny mimicked him, his shoulders moving up and down flippantly.

“S’not something you just shrug your shoulders at, Steve. Much as I want to find Joe right now and…” Danny took a breath, “beat the ever-living crap out of him, that’s something you gotta consider. Me, I’ve been married, I have my own kids, that’s not something I’m gonna miss out on, but you?” He shook his head. “You know it’s okay if you’re worried about that, right? I-I know we haven’t decided anything yet, that we’re just taking it day by day, but if that’s something you really want, Steve, then you need to know that… you need to know that before we – you know, before we go much further with this.” Danny rolled his lips together, biting his lower one gently. “I love you enough to let you go and have that. You know?”

“I know,” Steve’s hands slid up Danny’s forearms to rest right in the inner crook of the skin just below the biceps. “But… it’s not a deal breaker for me. Would it be nice to have my own kids? Yea, sure, I guess. I don’t know how I’d be a father to them with this… this insane job that’s our lives, you know? 24/7 it’s what we do, man, and on top of that, the kind of criminal element we’re involved in – Yakuza, drug cartels, human traffickers, mafia from all over the world.” Steve shook his head. “I bring a kid into the world and someone I put away or a buddy of theirs finds my kid, takes them hostage or worse? You’re the best father I think I’ve ever known, Danny, and I don’t know how you do it; how you deal with that possibility every day of your life, but I know that when Grace was taken by Rick Peterson, you handled it far better than I would’ve, because after we’d found Grace, if she were my daughter? They’d have never found Peterson’s body. I can promise you that.”

“You think I didn’t want to do that? Huh?” Danny’s words were soft but the conviction in them was unmistakable. “All I wanted to do once I’d gotten Grace back was leave her with her mother, go down to Holding at HPD, and collect or owe a few favors so I could take care of Rick the way he deserved to be taken care of. Okay, but that wasn’t going to help Grace, because I’d have been arrested and thrown in prison for 20 years of her life. Steve, I have no doubt in my mind that you’d be a fantastic dad – you wouldn’t be your father and you wouldn’t be your mother, and I think that’s what’s really been holding you back for so long.” He swallowed, considering his next words, but knowing that he had to say them. If nothing else, Steve deserved to hear them. 

“If you want kids of your own, biological kids of your own, and you want to find a woman to settle down with so you can have that – yes, it’ll hurt, yes, I’ll wish that you’d chosen me, but when it comes down to it, I’m never going to keep you from that, babe. Never. Becoming a father was the scariest thing I ever did, but I don’t want to think about where I’d be without my kids. I’d never deny you that same feeling. Okay?” Danny’s eyes blinked away rapidly developing moisture, and he bowed his head. This had not been his plan tonight. His plan had been to come to the restaurant, do some design work, take some measurements for the kitchen, add more photos to the pile of pictures already collected, and maybe call Steve to come by to help and hang out, and, oh, Steve was talking.

“… love me enough to let me go have that? Well, I love you enough to try this thing with you. I want you more than I want to have my own kids, okay? And besides, I love your kids, Danny; you know that. I’ve loved watching Grace grow up and Charlie? He’s amazing, and I love that you let me be in his life as much as you do. I’ve got Nahele, and that kid depends on me more than anyone else. I’ve gotten to be kind of a father to him.” But Steve saw he wasn’t quite convincing Danny, so he tried another tactic. 

“Look, when I made the decision to go into SEALS, I knew that having any kind of white picket fence family was gonna be difficult. I made that peace with myself a long time ago. Have I thought about having kids? Yes, absolutely, but…God, Danny, at this point in my life, I’m 41, and I just want peace. That’s it. Just peace, and I get that when I’m with you – you and the kids.”

Danny snickered quietly, but his expression was one of sweet amazement. “You get peace with me, huh?”

“And your kids – more with your kids now that I think about it.”

“Nice. Schmuck.”

“Yea, it is,” Steve breathed, looking at him. “I’m not giving you up.” It was a simple statement and yet the most powerful declaration he’d ever made. It eclipsed the vows he’d taken when he’d entered the service and any promise he’d made to the families of any victims he’d ever made. One of his hands slid to where Danny’s were still resting on his knees and he gathered them tightly between his fingers, resting his other hand atop the others. Danny cleared his throat, moving some of the emotion out of his throat.

“You know, the reason I came here tonight was to do some work, catch up on some stuff, but I think it’s probably a much better idea if we just get out of here, huh?”

“You do have a good idea every now and again, buddy,” Steve grinned, standing up and lifting Danny with him as he disentangled himself.

“Yes, there are times I amaze even myself,” Danny stretched his legs out to get the blood flowing again before settling his gaze back on the man in front of him. “Steve, no joke – about your dad, and Joe, your mom…it’s not crazy to want to be sure, alright? Normally, if it were anybody else, I’d say they were just paranoid and tell them to grow up,” he chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. “But Joe has a lot of secrets, especially secrets about your family and I bet he hasn’t even told you half of them yet – I guess what I’m saying is, if you want to be sure, if you want to find out the truth… if we gotta exhume your dad’s body to get the answers you need, then I’m with you. One hundred percent, okay?”

Danny was hardly prepared to be yanked towards Steve as forcefully as he was, and he was never more thankful that McGarrett was a solid wall of muscle, able to catch him as he pitched forward. He rested his hands on Steve’s hips as Steve’s arms went around him, holding him tightly, and Danny breathed deep and easy for the first time since he’d walked into the restaurant that night. After a few moments, he felt Steve nudging at his head, guiding him to look up and once he did, Danny’s mouth was captured gently by Steve’s. Each new kiss was a welcome exploration, this one soft and filled with gratitude, and Danny was still getting used to just how much he liked that someone else was able to hold him fast, tight, still discovering how much he enjoyed Steve’s five o’clock shadow that scraped gently and reverently against his own stubble. He’d waited 40 years to feel as attuned and connected to another person as he did now, and as Danny slipped his tongue against Steve’s wet lips, he gave his own thanks – thanks that Steve was staying, thanks that Steve had chosen him and Grace and Charlie, thanks for Steve himself.

“Are the kids by Rachel’s tonight?” And Christ, but Danny loved it when Steve spoke against his lips like that. He nodded, suppressing a shiver that desperately wanted to slither down his spine.

“Yours or mine?” 

Danny looked up at him. “Yours.” Steve bent down to kiss him again.

“Mine.”


End file.
